THISTLE DOWN MANOR
SCOTLAND
PRESENT DAY
Give me the paperwork.” Ian hung up the telephone and held out his hand.
“Why? What are you going to do?” Sarah had dreaded this moment since she had opened the envelope Mairi had left in her keeping. “You aren’t going to…to go after her, are you?” Damn. She was going to cry again. She could feel it.
Ian laughed and crossed the room, enfolding her in his arms. “Have you gone daft, woman? Yer brain addled by the hormones?” He held her tightly to him.
In all probability, the honest answer to that would have to be a resounding yes. The only reply she was capable of, without bursting into tears, was a single affirmative nod of her head.
“No, luv, I’m no leaving yer side now—no before the babes arrive—so dinna fret yerself.” He stroked her hair. “I’m going to ask Dallyn’s help. You read through the information in that envelope while we spoke to Cate and Connor. And you heard what Cate had to say about traveling through time. If Mairi’s little adventure had gone as planned, she would have returned to this time only moments after she left, no matter how long she spent in the past. Obviously something’s gone wrong and she’s no able to return. Based on what we saw in here”—he tapped his index finger against the papers lying on the bed—“I’m sure you know as well as I do there’s only one logical person to send after her.” He leaned back, cupping her face in his hands and using his thumbs to wipe the tears she hadn’t been able to stop.
“Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?” She smiled up at him. Damn hormones were turning her brain to sponge, that’s why. “You’re a genius, Ian.” He truly was. Or else she was completely besotted by him.
He kissed her on the head and turned her around by her shoulders, pushing her toward the bed as if she were an errant child up past her bedtime.
“It’s after midnight. You need yer rest. Put on yer nightie, snuggle into bed, and I’ll be back to rub yer feet before you know it. And here.” He handed her the little electronic device on a key chain and she laughed in spite of herself.
“I sincerely doubt I’ll go into labor while you deliver these things to Dallyn.”
He held up a hand to stop her. “We’re taking no chances. If you feel anything, and I do mean anything, you press that and my beeper will alert me.”
“Okay, fine. Go. The sooner you speak to him, the sooner all of us can stop worrying.”
He kissed her forehead again, scooped the paperwork back into its brown envelope and trotted out of the bedroom. She had no doubt but that he would run all the way there and back.
Poor Cate. The woman was sitting at her home in the States right now with a ranting husband flat on his back, unable to do anything. Sarah knew her friend. Cate would be feeling a world of guilt over this, though they all understood there would have been no way to stop Mairi from going through with her plan.
Sarah thought of her husband’s suggestion on how to approach this problem as she slipped into her nightgown and brushed her teeth. It truly was the perfect solution. For everyone.
Now if Dallyn would only agree.
What a delightfully interesting night this was turning out to be.
Dallyn leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the table, arms behind his head.
First there was the visit from Pol demanding, in his uniquely Prince–like way, that a Guardian be assigned to protect one of his recently discovered “daughters.” Apparently the infallible blessing Pol had used to guarantee protection to his descendants had somehow failed this particular female.
“Oh, one more thing.” The Prince had stopped at the door as if he’d just remembered an inconsequential little tidbit of information. “She could be somewhat difficult for the Guardian to locate since there is a relatively good chance she is time traveling.” He raised an eyebrow before adding, “Naturally we will want to keep that little fact to ourselves.”
Naturally.
At the time, Dallyn would have sworn nothing could possibly top the Prince’s appearance and request.
Of course, that was before the midnight visit from Ian.
Seems the lovely young woman Ian had introduced him to day before yesterday at dinner was in trouble—time-travel trouble of all things.
What were the chances of a coincidence like that? Slim—unless you happened to be a believer in the Fates playing right into your hands. And Dallyn certainly believed.
He had known when he met the woman there was something special about her, something that just begged him to get to know her better.
She was one of Pol’s descendants. One of those the Prince thought to keep secret from the High Council and all the other Fae. One of those he thought to keep separate from the Guardians.
Until now.
Dallyn looked down at the thick brown envelope in his lap. The information he held in his hands indicated they were embarking on a quest such as none of them had encountered before. He could only guess at the ire of the High Council—and the Earth Mother—should they find out about this.
At least the woman was smart enough to leave them a thorough trail in case she needed help. And Ian’s assessment of the best course of action had been spot-on, as usual, though his reasons were not the same as Dallyn’s own. Ian sought only a solution to the single problem at hand. Dallyn sought resolution to a much larger issue.
A brisk knock at the door interrupted his musing.
“Come in.”
“You sent for me?”
Dallyn’s latest recruit. The man was six feet, four inches of honed muscle, coiled to strike at an unknown enemy. Long, shining black hair pulled back from his face highlighted intense blue-green eyes, haunted by a past no one could change. Though he had grown to adulthood in the lap of luxury, he’d taken to the training like a warrior born, and excelled at it.
The means of resolution had arrived.
“I did. I have an assignment for you.”
“Already?” As he approached the High General of the Faerie Realm, Ramos Servans watched closely for any indication of the man’s true feelings. As usual, he saw none. Dallyn was a master at masking his thoughts and emotions. Even when Ramos used his inner sight, only the incandescent glow of a full Fae was ever visible. “We’d discussed it taking several more months to establish the necessary security clearances in the States.”
“Something else has come up, Ramos. Something with more urgency.” Dallyn tapped his finger against the large brown envelope he held in his lap. “Something requiring the utmost discretion. Only one of my Elite Guard can be trusted with this particular assignment.”
“You have others. Better trained and more experienced than I.” Ramos had been grateful when Dallyn offered him the opportunity to train as a Guardian. When, after his second week of training, Dallyn had proposed his transfer to the highly skilled Elite Guard, he’d been honored.
“True. But none quite so well suited for this particular situation as yourself.” Dallyn’s smile sent a jolt of foreboding through Ramos. “Besides, you were specifically requested.”
Now that was truly unexpected.
“Who would request me?” Who would even know of him? “And why?”
“Have a seat.” Dallyn motioned to a chair across from him as he slapped the thick envelope onto the table. “How good are you at history?” That smile again. The one that hinted of things to come.
“I had some classes at university.” Ramos’s mind raced, trying to figure out where Dallyn was going with this line of questioning. “Why?”
“Do you remember Sarah’s friends, the MacKiernans? You met them once, I believe?”
“Yes.” It seemed so long ago when he’d met them, almost a different lifetime. Almost a different him. Before Sarah’s marriage to Ian, before his life had changed, before he had learned what his father really was. What he really was. All they’d been responsible for causing. “I remember them.”
“You know they’re descended from the Fae, yes?”
“Yes. There was some discussion of it just before I left to come here.”
“Connor has a sister. Did you know?” Dallyn waited until Ramos shook his head. “A rather headstrong young woman, who has gotten herself into a bit of a bind. Sarah and Ian have requested that you be the one sent to get her out of it.”
That answered the question of who. Now he just needed to know why. Needed to know how this could be worth pulling him away from what he had been training to do.
“What’s so important about this particular woman?”
Dallyn’s eyebrow rose and smoothed so quickly Ramos might have missed it had he not been watching closely. Again the man’s finger tapped the envelope lying between them. Nervously tapped it, Ramos realized with a start.
“These people are descendants of Pol.”
“Prince Pol? Pol of the High Council?” He should have guessed. Politics. Some things were the same no matter which world you were in.
“The very one. Of course, you know of my…arrangement with the Prince.”
Ramos nodded. The Elite Guard had been formed specifically because of that arrangement. An arrangement designed to benefit both the Realm of Faerie and the World of Mortals. A secret arrangement, neither condoned nor known about by the ruling council of the Realm of Faerie. “I thought Pol had taken steps to insure the safety of his descendants.”
This time when Dallyn’s eyebrow arched, it remained in that position. “Yes, well, Prince Pol thought so as well. As it turns out, he was mistaken.”
“Then I’m to be assigned as a Guardian to this woman?”
“In a manner of speaking. After you locate her.”
“Locate her? Has she gone missing? Kidnapped?” The vague apprehension he’d felt earlier returned. The General was leading him somewhere unpleasant. He could sense it.
“No, not kidnapped. At least I don’t believe so. Not when you’re going.”
“When I’m going?” That caught his attention. Though Dallyn was known to slaughter modern sayings on a regular basis, it was unlike him to misspeak in a situation such as this. “Don’t you mean where I’m going?”
“No. I meant when. You see, there are a few minor details I hadn’t yet felt it necessary to disclose to all the Elite Guard. One of those details is that some of Pol’s descendants have regained the ability to travel through time.”
Time travel. An ability lost to the Fae after the Earth Mother had removed their powers on the Mortal Plain in an attempt to end the fighting between the Fae and the Nuadians. Hardly Ramos’s idea of a minor detail.
A myriad of contradictory thoughts fought to be voiced, but only one made it.
“Time travel is forbidden.”
Dallyn merely nodded. “Yes, forbidden and thought to be impossible. But”—he lifted his hands in a helpless gesture—“obviously not impossible any longer. And as to the forbidden part, well, that’s why I need someone I can trust to send after young Mairi MacKiernan. Someone who doesn’t mind breaking the council’s law, but who would never break the binding Fae commandment.”
“What commandment?”
“In the farthest reaches of our people’s history, when all Fae had the power to move through time, one rule existed to prevent utter chaos in both the Realm of Faerie and the Mortal Plain. You cannot change the outcome of history. You can only alter the circumstances.”
“Isn’t that the same thing? Aren’t you merely dancing the edge of a blade with your wordplay?” Wasn’t that always what the Fae did?
Dallyn shrugged. “View it as you like, but it is the ultimate mandate that must never be broken.”
“Where?” Ramos stopped and shook his head. No, not where. “When has this woman gone to?” He would concentrate on the task at hand, what he needed to do, where he needed to go, not the unthinkable process or the possible consequences.
“Any of those university classes cover details of the late thirteenth century?”
“Christ. Enough for me to know that’s not a place I’d be particularly fond of spending a great deal of time. What was she thinking?”
A smile of amusement lit the Faerie General’s eyes. “The young lady in question knows a considerable bit about the time. She’s learned through her studies—and quite diligent personal research, I might add—of a cousin who died at the hands of some rather unpleasant people. It would seem she’s taken it upon herself to go save her cousin from the villains.”
“And the rescuer now needs rescuing,” Ramos summed up. “So I’m somehow to travel back in time to the thirteenth century to save this woman from her own self-appointed task. But how do we even know she needs our help? If she’s gone to the past, shouldn’t we just wait for her return?” There was more. He could feel it, a tension hanging in the air between them, growing.
Dallyn looked down, tapped the paper once more before he straightened, pursing his lips as if preparing to share some more bad news. He shoved the envelope toward Ramos.
“We know she needs help because we have this. She left it to be opened if she hadn’t contacted Sarah by last night. As I understand the process, Mairi should have gone, done what she planned, and returned to our time in the space of mere minutes, regardless of how long she actually spent in the past. Since she’s been gone for more than twenty-four hours, we can only assume something has happened to prevent her return. You’ll want to read through this carefully. It will give you all the basic details of what Miss MacKiernan discovered, what she theorized, and what she planned to do. We’ll meet with Ian tomorrow to get you started on preparations.”
Ramos stared at the bulging envelope, the feeling strong that there was something inside the packet he wouldn’t like. He would prefer to know what it was now. He still didn’t understand why he was more suited to this task than any of the other Elite Guard. Dallyn hadn’t hesitated to tell him anything except…
“What do we know about the cousin this girl’s gone to rescue? What exactly is this cousin being rescued from?”
Dallyn stood and walked to the large window at the end of the room, staring out into the daybreak before finally turning.
“In the year 1295, a small footnote to human history tells of a minor Swiss noble having participated in rabble rousing and general havoc creation in a small portion of the Scottish Highlands. It’s this particularly brutal man who’s thought responsible for the death of Mairi’s cousin.”
A feeling of dread clawed at Ramos’s throat. “Who was this villain?”
Dallyn paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes before continuing. “It appears he may have been one of your people, Ramos. A Nuadian. We know only that his name was recorded as Servans.”